Daredevil: Doomsday
by DabbleDabble
Summary: Following on from Netflix' Season One finale, we pick up with Foggy, Matt and Karen investigating a new threat in Hell's Kitchen, while Matt struggles with his own humanity, and Matt and Karen find themselves drawn to each other despite their hang ups. Read & Review!
1. Chapter 1

Daredevil: Doomsday

Chapter One

'I don't get it…how-how does a kid end up overdosing on this drug?' Karen asks, her tone is riddled with anger-directed at the criminals who target innocents like the kid in question. Yesterday, a bunch of kids were playing the streets when they came across an abandoned van. In that van they found a substance…one of them smelt it, just a whiff. Two minutes later, he was on the ground convulsing. Now he's in a coma. Chemicals ate away parts of his brains and organs, all this from a scent.  
'That was just collateral damage, the problem we have is the drug is deadly no matter what quantity it's taken in. That's the problem.'  
'Collateral damage?' Karan remarks, immediately calling me on my bullshit, I flinch.  
'In the eyes of whoever the suppliers are…'  
'What if it falls into the wrong hands?' Karen asks, wondering aloud the same thing I'm thinking internally. Karen's voice bounces off the surfaces, giving the office the faintest form for my blinded vision. Vague shapes and hard edges, furniture and then there's heat, soft curves, smooth motions, a heartbeat, I pause. I'm staring at Karen. I'm a blind guy staring at a woman. I turn my head away, making the situation more appropriate, but I can still sense her presence. She's beautiful, and her scent is intoxicating, she uses light perfumes that make my senses dance.  
As I concentrate on the office around me, I note that everything is exactly as we left it yesterday– the only exception is a take away box, courtesy of Foggy, who's slumped on the desk. From the shuffling I hear, I sense he's rifling through files in search of something. I run my fingertips over the brail in the law textbook, brushing up on some basics. My ribs still ache from the brawl with Fisk. I'm glad he's behind bars. So is Foggy…but Karen…something's changed in Karen and I can't place it… not yet.  
'Bingo! These vans were used by DigiPalm.' Foggy announces, the chair screeches and the atmosphere shifts-he's sitting upright as he speaks. This is something Foggy does when he's one hundred percent sure about something. I sit up. Finally, a lead.  
A wooden chair groans against the floorboards, a weight shifts in the office. It's Karen. She's walking past me, her warm arm brushes the back of my head gently, she doesn't notice.  
'Anyone want a coffee?'  
'I take mine black, like the soul of DigiPalm.' Foggy quips, I smile at the poor joke.  
Her voice does that thing it does when she says my name, '…Matt?' It's slightly… tense.  
'No thank you. I actually need to be somewhere, see a friend about something…' I lie. I'm going after Digipalm, but I realised I want Karen and Foggy around, hence the lie.  
Foggy covers for me, 'oh, yea…say uh, say hi.' Foggy says.  
'Will do.' As I walk past Karen, I feel her warmth.  
'Which friend?' She asks before I make it to the door. I hate myself for this, but I have to lie.  
'There was this hot Greek chick from college…' Foggy says, covering for me with a half-truth. There _was_ a hot Greek chick in college, but I've got other things to do right now.  
'Oh…' Karen's silence sends a twinge of nerves through me.  
'I'll catch up with you guys tonight…?' I say, half asking and half apologising.  
'Sure,' Foggy says.  
Karen doesn't answer though. She has a funny way of making me feel like an asshole. I can't shake what's up with her, there's an edge to her that never used to be there. I don't know if I should protect her or confront her.  
Maybe it's not my place to do either, flinching as I shut the door behind me, I hear Karen say, 'hot Greek girl?' Prompting Foggy to elaborate, and knowing Foggy he will.

I duck past the parked vans in the underground car park. I run my fingers across the van nearest to me, the outline of the sticker on its side reads, 'Digipalm'. That's the tenth car in the parking lot. It means I'm definitely in the right place. I tracked it by scouring the rooftops of the city and listening down for any mentions of the word 'Digipalm'. I haven't heard of them before. I need to know who they're moving such deadly cargo for and what it is.  
_Thud…thud….thud….thud….thud, thud, thud, thud…_I pause. Footsteps approach a van parked across from me. _Creak!_ The perp's opening the doors to the van. Then I hear a _hiss…_ He's dragging something heavy, it's followed by a _clang!_ He tosses it into the van and slams the doors shut. I wince. My ears ring for a moment.  
'Hey!'  
Crap, he's seen me. I shake my head roughly, getting rid of the nausea from the ringing in my ears and I sprint at him. I punch-he dodges and my fist slams into the van. I flinch. From his grunt, the soundwaves ricochet off his body and etch an image of him in my mind. He's between 140-160pounds, tall, lean…is that tobacco I smell? I stamp on his foot, grab his wrist and yank it, forcing him to turn until he slams his face into the van door. I feel him panting as he struggles, his torso rises and falls rapidly against the van. I hold him firmly in place.  
'What're you moving?'  
'I can't tell you, man!' He swears, his heart hammers in his chest, I can't work out if he's afraid or lying. I wrench his arm, he cries out.  
'What're you moving?!'  
'Serpentis!' He cries, 'it's called S-Serpentis! It's some kinda drug – I d-don't know what it's for…The guy just pays us to move it, I swear to god, man! Let me go!'  
'Which guy?' I ask, firm.  
'I don't know his name-'  
I wrench his arm harder this time while shoving my knee into the back of his. He grunts in pain, 'I don't know his god damn name!'  
I guess he's left me no choice, in one swift movement…_Crack._ I snap his wrist. He howls in agony, I spin him round then grab him by the collar, slamming him up against the van door.  
'Give me a name, or lose your other wrist…!' I snarl, in truth I'm struggling to hold him in place, my ribs are aching as if acid is burning through them. They're definitely bruised, probably cracked. Again.  
'No, no, please! I have a family-I gotta work!'  
'I hope you're good with your feet…' I taunt as I tighten my grip on him, he howls anticipation for the sickening crack that he thinks will follow…and suddenly he has a name for me.  
'The only name I have is for Kale Lawson—he picks it up and drops it off to my guys…Kale Lawson. Please…god, please don't do this…!'  
'A little boy is in a coma because one of your guys abandoned their vans-' I spit out the words. He shakes his head, 'you don't get it, man…my guy saw what the drug did to his pal in the back with it and he ran. Said the other guy got all…weird in the head.'  
'Kale Lawson?' I repeat back to him, the man nods rapidly, I can hear his skull on the base of his spine. One nod, two nods, three nods.  
'Yeah, he's outta town but will be back on Friday with another batch. Just let me go…' He's pleading now, like a scared child. I release him, that's all I need to know. I listen for him as he runs out into the open. I run my hand along the vans, making sure I counted right. Ten vans. Not one more not one less. _Kale Lawson, Friday_.

Back at the apartment, I cradle my arm over my ribs. I'm in agony, I pull open the cupboard and down a shot of whiskey. The liquor hits me hard at first, the wooden flavour makes my tastebuds flare up. I pull off the costume and pull on a pair of trousers and a sweater. _I wish Claire wasn't out of town right now_, I think to myself. She said she was leaving town for a short vacation, and I don't blame her. I wish I could take a break from being me.

_Clack…clack…clack…_I pause, straining to listen, from the frequency of steps being taken, I know it's someone tall. Not as tall as me but almost. The way they strike against the floorboards of the apartment block tells me its heels, so a woman. I'm familiar with this gait, it's the same one I've picked up on at the office several times, whenever I'm offered a coffee …its Karen. I feel for the clock on the wall. _23:42pm. Why's Karen here?_  
I put on my glasses and wait for the knock because opening the door before she knocks would probably freak her out. _Knock, knock!  
_There it is. I pull the door open and I instantly pick up the scent of cherry brandy.  
'Foggy, had a date with Marci.' She announces as she walks in, 'so I thought I'd check in…' She says. There's a pause, but from her footsteps I can tell she's taking silent steps here and there to scan the place.  
'There's nobody else here.' I reassure her, assuming she's concerned.  
'Oh, no…sorry, I was worried I was interrupting.' She explains, 'how was the Greek girl?'  
I smirk, 'you mean the _hot_ Greek girl?'  
Another pause then, 'sure…'  
'She cancelled…' I lie, nodding slowly and wearing my best puppy-dog expression. I feel her step closer to me and suddenly my senses are engrossed by her. The scent of perfume mingling with soap, knowing her skin is soft from having brushed past her before just adds to her allure, topped off by the slightest whiff of shampoo and cherry liquor on her breath.  
'Matt…' Her heart is beating so fast, I struggle to listen to her words, have I stepped closer to her? My body acts like it's on autopilot, like a powerless magnet drawn to metal.  
'Karen…' I manage to whisper. She gently grazes my cheek with her hand and it sends alarm bells blaring through my mind, my mind is on fire. 'There's something I-'  
Before I've processed what she's saying, my lips find hers and I kiss her warmly. My fingertips trace her every outline as they slide down her sides, I rest my hands at her waist. Lifting a hand, I find her chin and then kiss her a second time, more passionate now. She moans and kisses me back. She cups my cheeks, I wonder how my stubble feels against her soft supple skin. As she pulls me closer, my ribs send a stabbing pain through my body and I jerk away. The spell broken, she's breathless and both our hearts race in our chests. I step back, 'uh…sorry, Karen…I sh-shouldn't have…y-you should go.' I blurt. I'm terrified. The intensity of how I feel scares me. I've never wanted someone as much as I wanted her just now, but if it's just a lust thing, she deserves better and we both know it.  
'…what?' She manages, the confusion and hurt in her voice make me loathe myself.  
'Please…this…_we_ can't happen.' I explain, I feel a warm hand caress my cheek and I jerk my head away then instantly regret it. A loud silence hangs in the air between us.  
'You're a piece of work, Matt. You know that?' She asks, pissed off. And she has every right to be. I hear the door slam, I tentatively approach it and pressing my hand against its surface I steady myself then lean against it and lower myself to the floor.  
_What was I thinking?_ I demand from myself, I wasn't. I always sensed the tension and chemistry, I understood she was attractive but I know better. I bury my face in my hands and groan, I hate myself. I've just ruined a great friendship and hurt a good woman. Foggy's going to kill me…  
_She wanted to confide in you and instead you kiss her? _Just thinking of the way her lips felt against mine, and the gentle curves of her silhouette leaning in to my touch makes my heart pound. What am I doing?  
What did she want to tell me…? 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

I reach the front door outside the office. Traffic clogs up the street with variations of purring engines, while pedestrians stride by at different paces. And here, standing blindly amidst it all, is me. My heart thumps. I'm nervous. I hope to hell Foggy is inside, I listen intently but I only hear one pulse. And it's not Foggy. I pause, unsure if I should go in … unsure if I can face her… I kissed her. I'm such a dog. I know better…or atleast, I _knew_ better…once. I hear a sudden movement, panicked, I lean away from the door-I drop my walking stick. I bow down to pick it up and I hear the door open behind me. Where is my walking stick?  
'Matt…what're you doing?' Karen exclaims, she instantly picks up my walking cane and I stand, sheepish. She hands it to me, her warm hands sending jolts through my own coarser hands.  
'Thanks…Karen, I-I, God…I'm so sorry about last night.'  
'Let's just forget about it…' She says, but as she speaks her heart pounds rapidly. And for once, I'm lost. I don't know if she's saying that to cover up how she feels, or she's saying that because she's just that turned off by what an ass I was last night.  
'I had a bad night and I just…'  
'We don't need to go over it. Like I said…' she says, her voice firm, 'let's forget about it.'  
I've never been nervous around a woman before, 'Okay. Thank you…I-I am sorry, you know?'  
'Matt…just don't….please.' I can feel her wincing. I nod, she was drunk too. Its better this way.  
'We can never tell Foggy about this…' we both say at the same time, she falls silent. I can feel the heat from her flushed cheeks, and I smile politely.  
'Besides, it was just a kiss.' I say, trying to normalise it aloud as I follow her into the office…when the door slams against me, I figure it's too soon to trivialise it. She apologises but I know she didn't mean it. She _is_ mad at me. I guess it's better for her than falling for me, so I can live with it. I can live with mad.  
'Did you find anything else on DigiPalm?' I ask. Initially I used to ask her out of politeness, but soon I realised Karen was one of the smartest and most resourceful women I know. Now I ask her out of genuine curiosity, in hopes she can help me…I suppose, she's humbled me. With Karen around, I'm not always the smartest person in the room.  
'I was searching the name Digipalm for a rootname, if it's an umbrella company or if it has a seed somewhere…all I came up with was 'S.H.O.U.''  
She holds the next door open for me this time, I tap it aside with my stick and stroll into the office.  
'S.H.O.U.?'  
'I searched for hours, looking for some kind of expansion on the abbreviation but then I realised it wasn't an anagram for anything…its actually Chinese for Hand.'  
I'm hit with memories of scents of burning hay, bamboo sticks, martial arts and good ol'Stick. I shake it off, the Hand isn't in Hell's Kitchen…is it?  
'Something about the name doesn't ring right… we've missed something.' I lie. I need Karen to stop pursuing this because things can get real deadly really fast when it comes to The Hand.  
'No, it's definitely the name of the puppeteer behind the drugs and digipalm.' She insists.  
'Karen-'  
'Trust me, Matt. I know my stuff.' She says stubbornly, I sigh.  
'Where's Foggy…?' I ask after a moment, there's no answer.  
'I shrugged,' Karen says in a sheepish voice, I give her a wry smile.  
'It's okay…'  
'Maybe he and Marci…'  
Got mugged? Got hurt? The normal thoughts sprint through the passages of my mind as I start to rule things out.  
'What?' I ask, prompting.  
'You know…had _sex_…'  
'Oh…' I say quickly, now I feel my own cheeks flush and I have no idea if Karen can tell.  
She lets out a small laugh, one she tries to stifle. I clear my throat.  
'That-that would make sense….' I say slowly as I take a seat. Karen pulls up a chair beside me and loads up the computer, 'I need to show you something…' She says absent-mindedly, unaware as our shoulders brush against each other.  
A few clicks later, she plugs something into my keyboard and prints it off in brail. I run my hand across it, 'The Hand doesn't exist on paper…it's just a name that was mistakenly printed or maybe misinterpreted by a journalist investigating the drug importers in Hell's kitchen.'

I run my fingers along the page, 'But this…'  
Karen nods, I feel the shift, 'this is a lot of importers.'  
'It's a long list, but sometimes you have to start at the bottom of the pyramid and make your way up, to work out whose at the top.' She says…I can't help myself, so I ask her, 'Do you mind if I…' I raise my hands, palms facing outwards. She doesn't move a muscle. I place my hands on her face, she closes her eyes. She feels just how I think she looks. She isn't pretty, she's gorgeous. Big eyes, full lips, sensual features. I pull my hands away. Its her turn to clear her throat, I think I made her uncomfortable.  
'It's just something I do…'  
'I know, Foggy told me.'  
I cringe, 'what did Foggy tell you?'  
'N-Nothing…that you do that to…to tell if someone is-'  
'To tell what people look like.' I lie, Foggy knows the only people I bother to feel the faces of are women, beautiful ones. It's like the nerves in my fingers, the senses around me, all mingle and entangle to paint a picture in my head. Karen moves, I think she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.  
She types away as I go through the list when her breathing changes for a moment, she wants to say something. I don't know if she will. Karen is difficult to read.  
'When was the last time you…I mean, can you—'  
'Of course I can! I'm blind not _dead_…' I say defensively. She pauses, 'wait, what do you think I'm talking about?'  
'When was the last time I had sex…!' I exclaim, I don't know why, but my pride is wounded.  
'What?!' Karen scoffs, 'get your head out of your ass, Matt. I wanted to ask you what the last thing you remember seeing is…'  
_What is wrong with me?_  
'You've obviously developed social blindness too.' She says, her voice is riddled with annoyance.  
'S-sorry…I-'  
'You know, Foggy told me you were a womaniser but I just…I don't know, I didn't wanna believe it…'  
'What?!' I say incredulously. I want to defend myself, but I can't. All of a sudden, it hits me. I guess I am a bit of a womaniser. I have flings not relationships, and anything I have that's real…just…ends. _I should never have kissed her…I've really fucked this up and it was a good thing.  
_She's heading in the direction of the door.  
'Karen, wait…where are you going?'  
'I can't work like this…Call me when Foggy shows up. Until then, I'm working from anywhere but here with you.' She says. I clench my jaw. When she slams the door the shut, I grab my walking stick and whack it against the chair. The chair crashes across the room. I hear something shatter. Probably a framed certificate. I don't care.  
I slump back down into Karen's chair, it's still warm and her scent of perfume lingers. Taking off my glasses, I bury my face in my hands.

_Flashback:_

_Burning hay singes my nostrils. Still winded from the beating, I scramble to my feet. I pick up the ragdoll Stick left in here with me, and I sprint towards the narrowing opening. The plumes of smoke are so dense, I don't have more than ten seconds of air left in here. But I've completed the task, I battled and fended off Stick, saved the hostage and now, I leap through the flames and roll across the bumpy ground outside the barn. Daylight bathes me, I can tell from her familiar warmth unlike the intense heat from burning flames, this feels like a comforting pat on the back.  
I can sense Stick standing before me. I pick myself up and dust myself off, then smug, I toss the ragdoll to him. He bats it aside with his cane.  
'Wipe that dumb look off your face, you failed.'  
'But I saved her!' I argue, Stick scoffs and starts walking away. I hurry behind him and grab his arm, refusing to accept his verdict. He spins me around, plants his knee in the back of mine and lowers me to the ground, pinning me in his hold. I haven't figured out how to break out of it yet, but I will someday. I don't bother struggling because we both know it's a waste of time. He's got me.  
'You failed because you saved the girl but what about the snitch?'  
'He's a bad guy!'  
'He had information that could help you stop something bigger and badder than an arson attack…what did she have?'  
'Innocence!' I declare.  
Stick releases his hold on me, 'Innocence doesn't mean anything. Knowledge is power. Never remove your focus from the path of your intended goal. You were there for a purpose. You were there to make the right choice between the snitch and the hostage. You failed the greater good by focussing on the innocent rather than the demon who could help you trap the devil instead.'  
He walks away and calls back to me.  
'Tomorrow we do this again. Make the right choice next time.'  
I stand in his wake, dazed and confused. I thought the greater good was about helping people not about killing people._

_End flashback_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

I run my fingers over the final few names on the brail printout Karen left behind, I've cross checked addresses with names and criminal records. A _lot_ of them coincide. These guys are a bad crowd, that's for sure. Their crimes are all power-based, violence, damaging property, grievous bodily harm, car crashes. A nasty crowd to run a nasty product, I guess.  
I hear a jingle, light metal on metal. _Keys._  
A few seconds and fumbled attempts later, Foggy lets himself into the office. He smells of soap. He's freshly showered, meaning he got some action last night. The thought makes me queasy but happy for him. I can't believe he told Karen about the thing I do with faces.  
'So I'm a womaniser…?' Is the first thing to leave my lips as Foggy settles in the chair on the otherside of the large desk.  
'How else would you describe it?' He pauses, 'besides, you aren't interested in Karen. She can think bad of you all she wants.'  
He's telling me, not asking me and I don't blame him. He's protective of Karen because she's one of the good ones, she's real. One of the keepers. Unlike me. And as far as Foggy is concerned and as far as my track record goes, not my type.  
'You didn't have to tell her about the face thing though…' Foggy doesn't reply indicating he needs me to elaborate, 'with my hands…on the face..' I say, irked.  
'Wow… Okay, one of us woke up on the wrong side of bed today, Matt and it wasn't me.' Hr chimes, I lean back in my chair and stifle a yawn.  
'Whatever.' I mumble.  
'Look, you need to learn to play nice with Karen because it's the three of us, in this. I won't watch her go.' Foggy declares.  
'I care about her too.'  
'You rarely care about anyone Matt.'  
'That's harsh.'  
'No, you know what I mean, sure you enjoy company but you don't really _care_, that's why things never work out for you-despite how hot they are.'  
I bite my tongue, there are hundreds of reasons why they don't work out and that isn't one of them. Just because I don't make a spectacle of it, doesn't mean I don't care. Things don't work out because I don't do love. I can't afford committing to that, I can't risk having that in my life because the moment I do, I have something to lose and my priorities shift from the greater good to protecting that person and that's just…not who I am. It's not who I'm allowed to be. To say I don't care is unfair.  
'Why're you frowning?' Foggy says, I didn't realise I was, Foggy continues, 'it might sound harsh Matt, but you don't let anyone close. It's always a fling with you…' He starts rifling through some pieces of paper, he sounds absent-minded as he speaks, 'Besides, hurt Karen and I will kick your ass. I will legitimately kick your ass.'  
'There's nothing between me and Karen,' I'm convincing myself more than I'm convincing him. 'And sure, that's how it looks, like I don't care…but you know what I do Foggy. I can't risk someone's safety like that. I just can't.'  
'Cop out.' Foggy declares.  
'End of topic.' I retort, I don't have the patience to deal with this nor should I have to defend my actions to my best friend. Foggy pauses, 'wait…where's Karen?'  
_Shit._  
Before I can create a lie, Foggy is onto me, 'did something happen between you two?!'  
He's angry, not envious, not upset, but genuinely angry at me, 'Karen is _off-limits_! She is off-limits, do you understand that? Don't mess with the status quo Matt. She deserves more than to end up as another notch on your bedpost—'  
'Foggy-'  
'Seriously.'  
'I'd never hurt her and I'm not going to, and nothing major happened. Just a mistake.' Foggy waits for me to tell the truth, 'between two adults.'  
'A mistake of the adult nature?! Matt…I swear to God…leave her be. Let this _one_ hot chick be spared, just _this one_ out of the millions of them, just leave _our_ one alone. We're a team, man. That's sacred.'  
Foggy speaks sense, it's irrelevant anyway, 'Foggy… she doesn't even like me. I'm not her type. Trust me, she's made that much clear.'  
I hear him breathe a sigh of relief.  
'I heard that.'  
'Sorry…so what's the news?'  
'Karen tracked down a mysterious umbrella company who created Digipalm and hired a bunch of criminals with violent personality traits to be the importers. Whoever they're pedalling to is in big danger…And these guys can fight, Foggy.'  
'Like at your level?'  
'No, but… they're deadly. Street fighters. Anything goes but they need to be stopped.' I explain, there is a silent pause. Foggy understands I have to be the one to stop them.  
'Oh, shitbuckets.'  
'You can say that again…'  
'Oh, shitbuckets.' Foggy repeats, 'Can't you call the cops anonymously and give them a tip? Let them deal with it…?'  
'Foggy, if these guys are as brutal as I think, it's better I take a few down first. There's no way the cops will bring the cavalry based on an anonymous call…it'll end up being a death sentence for whichever poor officer shows up.'  
Foggy falls silent, I know what he's thinking, _Better them than me. This is where Foggy and I differ. I think it's better if I die fighting for what I believe in and using the advantages I have, than some poor rookie officer with good intentions being killed as part of a war he didn't know he was in._ If this is the Hand, then I'll deal with it. Less casualties the better.  
'When do you start on the list?' Foggy asks.  
'Tonight…' I can hear him typing on the computer, presumably he's searching for the list, 'if you can't find it on there, Karen printed two copies. Should be on the desk somewhere.' I explain as I stand, 'Let her know you're here.'  
'Where're you going?'  
'To work out where to start on the list. I'll scout a few locations that got flagged up during the cross-checking.'  
'The second copy isn't here.'  
'Call Karen, she'll talk you through printing another one off.' I say flippantly as I grab my walking cane and head for the door.  
'So, you're just gonna leave when Karen's around? That's how you two'll deal with your mistake of the adult nature?'  
I hate it when Foggy does this. He can't just let things be.  
'I'm doing research. I promise you I'm not avoiding her.' I lie, but he buys it so I'm off the hook.  
'You sure you're gonna take these guys down alone?' Foggy calls after me, I shrug.  
'It's not like I have a choice.' With that I step out of the office and down the steps and begin walking through the busy street. People somehow always manage to give me a meter of space, which works out perfectly for the way I use my walking stick to figure out whether I'm at a curb, or about to walk into a dumpster. It's happened before. Less often as I grew older, but initially, my week wasn't complete until I'd body checked around twelve dumpsters. I smile wryly, almost nostalgic at my naïve and clumsy attempts to harness something so much bigger than myself when I was at such a young age.  
Harnessing the blindness hit me harder than being blind, it altered my way of seeing the world on a deeper level than just honing physics and physicality.

The night is damp but warm. Smoke rises from the manhole covers in the alley and the mild breeze makes the hairs on my neck stand on edge. I feel like I'm being watched. I thought I picked something up a few streets back but wrote it off as a hobo going someplace else. I've followed a DigiPalm employee, aka a ruthless criminal to an apartment which sits on the second floor of one of these buildings, facing the alley lined with dumpsters and metal fire escapes. 

I take my cane and tap it against the dumpster closest to me, I listen for the alterations in the sound wave as it travels up the dumpster and onto the next surface, rusty metal. There's a fire escape just a meter above the dumpster. I climb into the dumpster and grab the fire escape, I've scaled it within seconds. _Hello second floor, hello felon. _  
I lower myself so I'm crouching, minimising chances of being spotted by anybody glancing through their windows in this derelict place. I feel the breeze push past me and travel on, it drops in pressure to my right. I reach out, my fingers find a window pane. The window is open, makes sense, it's a hot night.  
I climb in through the window—suddenly, a hand grabs my neck and slams me up against a wall. The man is so powerful he slams me with the same hand a second time into the wall, only now it cracks along with something in my chest. That's not good. I'd bet good money I've got yet another broken rib.  
'Who sent you?!' He bellows, I can smell the whiskey on his breath, as well as the soil on his fingernails. Strange combination.  
My hands clutch his muscular arm, I can't even budge it. I feel the air leaving my lungs. That's when he raises his second hand and rams it into my chest, _snap!_  
Definitely broke that rib now. I grunt in pain, I can take a lot but losing air and increased pain is torture. That's when I hear a swift movement from near the window. Somebody else is here. I detect a scent of jasmine and leather.  
_Thwack!  
_The hand clasped around my neck suddenly ceases, releasing me. I crumble to the ground in a heap, cradling my chest as my body contorts with pain.  
The man howls. I don't know whose hurt him or how.  
'I'll snap it off if you don't listen to me carefully.' A sultry voice warns him, I _know_ that voice, 'Give me the keys to your van and disappear. Get out of this city and don't come back.'  
The man starts to protest but she does something that makes him cry out in agony. I hear a clatter of keys, she catches them. I'm struggling to breathe; the shooting pain in my chest is too much. I try to focus. A large weight shifts nearby, it's the man. Whatever she did worked, he's fleeing from the apartment. I flinch as he slams the door shut behind him.  
I'm almost unconscious now, the pain hit me so hard I'm dizzy and disoriented.  
'The city's made you soft.' Elektra's voice taunts just as I pass out. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

A dull continuous tone stimulates my eardrums, it's low at first then as my body stirs from being unconscious it evolves in to a blaring scream. I smell leather. I'm shirtless, laying on a suede texture that's warmed to match my body temperature. I jolt upright, soaked in sweat.  
I gasp for air, within seconds I'm grimacing my hand finds my ribs. One rib in particular protrudes slightly, stretching the skin over it. The tenderness around is indicates swelling and bruising. I have to push it back into place, ease it into healing right.  
A cry escapes my parched lips as I push it slowly, every ounce of weight I press upon it makes me shout out in more agony.  
'Arghhhhh….' I clench my jaw, the pain penetrates me to the point where it reaches into my every cell and manages to evoke tears from my eyes. I brush them aside. A soft _click_, and its back in place.  
Jolts of pain rush toward the rib and emanate from it. The pain rocks my body, I clench every muscle without clenching my abdomen as the waves of pain subside. All I can hear now is my beating heart. It's the still presence I detect in the room that reminds me, 'Elektra…?'  
My voice croaks, I clear my throat and try again, 'Elektra?' It comes out louder this time, more solid. The presence in the room morphs into purposeful footsteps. The confidence with which she walks is how I can tell her apart from anyone else. Each step a calculated and decisive one.  
'What-what're you doing in Hell's Kitchen?'  
'That guy you used to hang out with in Uni called me yesterday. Said you were going through a tough time and could use a familiar face…' _I'm going to kill Foggy. He called Elektra to distract me from Karen and give me an outlet. Unbelievable. _'I figured if it was pouring over into your civilian life, then you'd bitten off more than you can chew-and I was right. You can't see yourself Matt, but your body needs to heal.'  
I hadn't thought of it that way, I could feel both of my worlds merging but I brushed it off as something natural when I let Karen and Foggy in, but Elektra's right. There's a difference between having friends and them having to see the brutal side of what you do.  
'You're nursing two broken ribs right now, and a badly bruised spine. You could end up paralysed, Matt.'  
'I know, I can feel it.' I admit, the thought of paralysis terrifies me. I'm in the dark but I can move around, I can follow scents, and textures and sounds and be a part of the world, but if I'm paralysed, then I'd rather be dead. I'd be a log, just laying there, unmoving, blinded, trapped in my own body which at that point, would be more of a coffin than a body. I'd be at the mercy of the world. Maybe it's that that terrifies me, being at the mercy of the world. I was at its mercy before and it tore my life into pieces. It robbed me of my sight, of my father, of my childhood.  
'Then take a break from it. Just for a little while until your body heals up. Going on like this _will_ kill you.'  
She doesn't care if I die, she means it's unproductive for my long-term saving Hell's Kitchen plan.  
'Thanks for your help.'  
'For old time's sake.' The soft whisper of leather against skin tells me she just shrugged.  
A hand touches my shoulder, I freak out-batting it away. I cringe, Elektra's the only person who can get close to me without me hearing her.  
'Sorry…' I whisper, I'm hanging my head. My head pounds from the beating and the pain, as well as the fear of ending up paralysed.  
She pecks me on the cheek, and I don't move a muscle.  
'I can't stop now… Fisk is in prison, I'm a step ahead of whoever's doing this-'  
'The Hand is doing this.' Elektra says, confirming my fears.  
'That's why you're here.' I say, realisation laces my voice, 'You're here to take down the Hand.'  
'Foggy's call came at a convenient time, I've been in the city for a month keeping up with what you were doing with Fisk and working out what that meant for the Hand's agenda.'  
She ruffles my hair with one hand, 'besides, it's good to see an old friend.'  
'Is that what we are? _Friends_?'  
She punches me playfully in the arm and I turn my head to face her. Our chemistry was stuff of legends according to Foggy. I'm not sure what chemistry is, but I know the sex was pretty incredible. Elektra has mastered her entire body and trained to the point of precision, I don't remember what I enjoyed doing more with her, fighting or hooking up. My heart skips a beat as her fingertips graze my cheek and slide down to my jaw. She kisses me with conviction and I kiss her back.  
'Friends with benefits…' She corrects herself and from her tone I can tell she's smiling. Elektra understands darkness but she's much more … clear cut than I am. She's a focussed warrior which is more than I can say about myself.  
'You won't take it easy, but you _will_ let me help you on this.' Elektra orders, and I don't argue. It'll be nice to have someone who understands me a little more than Foggy and Karen.  
'I can live with that…' I decide, 'We've got the van, it's a start but we need more.'  
'If we move the van before the next delivery is due on Friday, it'll get unwanted attention…'  
'Yeah, you're right. We deal with the van on Friday, by then we need to get all the info we can. Get dressed, then let's go.'  
'Where?'  
'Nelson and Murdoch.' She says, 'we have work to do.'  
I stand, she's right, we need to work out what the next step is.

I unlock the door and lead Elektra in to the office, from the distant mumbles I can tell Karen and Foggy are inside working. I push the door open and I'm engulfed in scents of coffee, perfume, Foggy's aftershave and freshly printed ink and a distinctive grating sounds which I've learnt since college is the sound of writing on paper when leaning against a desk.  
As we enter, all auditory hustle and bustle ceases. I get the feeling we're getting stared at.  
'Uh…' Foggy manages, 'Elektra! Long time no see!' He announces, welcoming her as he strides over to us. He brushes past me and gives her a hug.  
'Hey Foggy,' Elektra chuckles.  
I can feel Karen watching me, I don't know why. I can just feel it.  
'Karen this is Elektra…Elektra went to the same university as us…'  
'Hi.' Karen says politely, but it's false and her tone is tense. Similar to the tension that's been there since Fisk was arrested.  
'Karen works with us at the firm…which is why…she is here. Matt can I talk to you for a second?' Foggy announces then takes me by the arm and pulls me into the lobby, leaving Elektra with Karen.  
'Dude. What is Elektra doing here?'  
'You called her up.'  
'No, I mean at the office!' Foggy exclaims.  
'It's fine, she's going to help just for a little while…'  
'Oh…_oh…_'  
'What?' I ask, starting to find Foggy annoying.  
'No…no, you know what you're doing, so…I'm just gonna let you deal with…the hurricane and the volcano in there.' He refers to the office. I can't help but smirk as I ask, 'which one's which…'  
'You'd know.' Foggy says with an accusing tone, before I can shoot back a witty reply he's disappeared back into the office. I head back into the office and Elektra and Foggy are walking towards me, they brush past me.  
'Foggy and I found a lead, I'll see you later.' She pecks me on the cheek and just like that, her and Foggy are gone.  
I walk over to the desk and take a seat besides Karen. A chair creaks, and I realise she's moved her chair slightly away from me, putting distance between the two of us. I don't like it, but I don't say anything.  
'I take it that's the hot greek from your uni days.'  
'Who Elektra?' I ask.  
'Don't act so clueless.' She says, scoffing and somehow I know she's now more disappointed in me than she was before.  
'Yeah, Elektra's an old friend…'  
I hear the grating of the nib against paper, 'Do all your friends kiss you good bye?'  
I'm at a loss for words, _this_ is what Foggy was talking about.  
Karen suddenly stands and I hear her grab her coat, 'where're you going?'  
'I found a lead.' She says and heads for the door.  
'W-wait…' I stammer, clearing my throat I try to hide my urgency.  
'I'll come with you.'  
She doesn't object but she doesn't need to, her silence says it all. She lets out a frustrated sigh, 'If you want.'  
I grab my walking cane and follow her out of the office and down the steps. We manoeuvre our way through the busy street, when Karen musters some words, 'She's gorgeous.'  
'Elektra?'  
A pause, then Karen says, 'sorry, I nodded.'  
A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips, 'you'll get used to not nodding…Yeah, Elektra's…something.'  
'Is she just another one of your like… monthly flings?'  
'What? Oh, is this more of crap Foggy's been filling your head with about me?'  
Karen scoffs, 'crap? It's only crap if it's untrue Matt.'  
'Why do you hate me?'  
She groans and stalks ahead, I hurry and grab her arm, 'Karen, wait…just wait….what's…what's going on?'  
I can feel her warm breath on my skin, we're standing close, her heart's hammering. '…Nothing.' She lies.  
'You know, you and Foggy give me hell when I keep things from you guys, but your voices sound different when you lie.'  
'There's nothing to talk about, Matt.'  
'This can't be just because I kissed you. I said I was sorry. I should never have crossed that line…' If there's a combination of words that can solve the problem of me and Karen, I can't find them.  
'No, Matt, it's nothing to do with…that.' She promises, a sigh escapes her lips, 'You should join Elektra and Foggy. I'd rather do this alone, besides, I have a date tonight so I'm in a rush.'  
Aaand I'm suckerpunched, followed by being mad at myself for being so taken aback by this.  
'A d-date?'  
'Yeah, Matt. A date…thanks for acting _so_ surprised by the way.' She mutters, obviously offended.  
'No, it's not surprise…it's just…You're pretty great, so…I hope he's a nice guy.'  
'Thanks, I hope so too…I should go.'  
As I listen to her footsteps fade until she becomes part of the hustle and bustle of the city, I remember the promise I made to her about moving forward _together_. How did we wind up here? So far apart. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

I scan the broad street, its dark. I sent Elektra to chase up leads, I lied and told her I had something important to do… well, it wasn't a lie, what I'm doing _is_ important. I don't know why it matters so much to me, I'm ninety percent sure Karen was lying about having a date but I just need to know.  
I round the corner her apartment block sits on and climb the fire escape attached to the building across from it. I hurry up the stairs. The idea of Karen having a date bothered me more than I wanted it to. It got under my skin. And three hours later, I'm creeping up the building across from hers. I should be disgusted by myself, but I'm not. I feel like this is my _right_. I should get to know if she _is _seeing somebody.  
Making it to the top of the skyscraper I approach the balcony and peer across the road at her building. I close my eyes and listen intently, keeping my hood pulled up over my head incase she happens to be looking out of the window.  
I breathe in deeply, my mind navigates through the plethora of elements and compound that cling to air in the street and I differentiate which part of that is the street and which part of that comes from within the apartment block, I throw out fuel, smog, metals and cement, I hone in on … something delicate, it's lingering, lurking between strong scents of wine and bread, I pause…there it is. Karen's perfume.  
Just like that it fades out. I've lost her. Damn it. I have to enter the building…I climb down the fire escape and make my way to the apartment block.

The doors open automatically and I'm in. I stalk through the corridor following the scent of perfume that I know so well now. It leads me to the elevator, I get inside and hit the button for the top floor. The elevator reels upwards, the scent grows stronger. More recent, she's near. As soon as it starts to fade, I know I've passed her floor. I stop the elevator and head for the floor beneath me. I hold out a hand and let my fingertips graze the wallpapered walls, I've been here before, as 'The Mask'. I came in directly through the window that time, relying on fire escapes and balconies. I stop at one door in particular, she's inside. I press my ear against the door. The TV is on, she's watching the game. I remember she's a Hellions fan, a part of me wants to be in there with her, watching the game. I stand still, I'm overwhelmed by sadness all of a sudden, a resonating loneliness that keeps her and me apart. It's ironic. Loneliness should bring two people closer.  
_Why did she lie?_ Probably to protect her own pride. I don't know, but I'm relieved.

**********

Watching the Hellions game tonight and eating popcorn and drinking soda, this was my favourite thing to do as a kid. I always catch one match a month, it's my way of toasting to my mother. She was the fan in the house, not dad. We'd sit together, mother and daughter, jittery with playful excitement and wait for the match to start.  
As I chomp down the popcorn, a part of me feels bad for lying to Matt, but screw him. Screw him and that…Elektra. They're probably at his place hooking up right now. I can never peg whether Matt is a lovely guy or a prick, but lately the latter is becoming more and more apparent. I hate myself a little bit for not listening to Foggy the first time when he warned me off his handsome but blind friend.  
I don't know, I guess I just hoped the connection Matt and I had was something more than physical. I sigh, I shouldn't be so fast to write him off…I stand up and grab my jacket, there's only one way to clear the air and that's to talk it out. As I near the door, my courage runs out. I stop at the door, pressing my forehead against it. When did he start affecting me so much that I'd cancel watching the game over him?  
I turn around, pressing my back against the front door and I lower myself to the ground. How did I wind up so alone…?  
I bury my face in my hands, _I know why I've driven myself to being isolated_. After what I did, after running away…I find it hard to connect with people, and then Foggy and Matt happened. And the Mask. And suddenly, I'm around people I've started to really care about and…Tears sting my eyes, I glance across at the TV screen as the Hellions play.

_Flashback:  
I run up the steps as fast as my sixteen year old feet will take me, I can't wait to watch the game tonight…Mom's friend Ray must have left by now. Mom changed a lot this past few years, since the fight with dad. After dad left, she started using more and more.  
She knows tonight is our night.  
As I unlock the front door, my arms holding two bags of groceries in a giant bearhug, I head into the house. I'm hit by the smell of heroin. It has a strong metallic scent to it, it leaves a chemical burn in the air. No, not tonight Mom. Please not tonight.  
Something crashes up stairs. I remember her warnings, I open the kitchen drawer and pull out a gun and head up the steps. My heart races, the closer I get to the bedroom the louder her cries become. I hear thud after thud, she groans. Someone's throwing her around the room.  
'Please…!' She cries.  
I grip the gun and aim it, booting open the door I see Ray. Ray is a middle-aged man whose losing his hair but is built from head to toe in muscle. The guy is huge and powerful. Mom started seeing Ray after dad left. I never liked Ray. I didn't like the way he looked at me, or the way he pushed my mom around. She always told me it was her problem, she made her bed. What she forgot is, I was living with her too. I loved my mom with all my heart, its why I chose to stay with her when they separated. But I never liked Ray, he got her onto the drugs, he started hitting her. Dad never hit her. It makes my blood boil.  
'Hey!' I shout. Ray stops hitting her long enough to look at me, he scoffs.  
'You don't even know how to use that. It's not a toy, sweetheart…'  
As he calls me sweetheart, a chill runs down my spine. He undoes his belt, 'now get lost and give us some privacy…' He orders as he turns back to her. Mom cowers on the floor, bruised and bloodied. I can't …I can't move. I shut my eyes and pull the trigger, over and over.  
When the bullets run out, I open my eyes slowly to a room in which my mom is shrieking on the floor, covered in Ray's blood and Ray is facing me, he takes a step forward. He's riddled with bullets…he slumps over, face down in a pool of his own blood. Smoke lingers around the pistol, I lower the gun and stare at what I've done._

_End flashback:_

How will I ever tell Matt what I've done…who I _am_. Will I ever outrun the things I've done? The Hellions game once a month, that's all I have to feel human. Maybe that's all I deserve. I stand up, pulling myself away from the door and I sit on the couch, pulling the cushion closer to me, I cradle it as I watch the game.  
Matt doesn't deserve someone like me.  
The thought of Wesley comes to mind and tears stream down my face, into the cushion. I muffle my sobs as I cry into its soft fabric. I've killed two men… that changes a person. It's true what they say, your past follows you wherever you go in life, its always behind you. That's the thing about the past, no matter where you go, it's always behind you holding you back.  
_Creak…_I think I hear somebody on the otherside of the door, I silently climb to my feet and open the door. There's no one there. A shiver runs along my spine.

***********


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys, they're a good motivator to keep updating. I hope you enjoy where this is headed…fasten your seatbelts.

Chapter Six:

There's a warm smog clinging to the air tonight as rain sprinkles over the city. We're at the docks, Elektra leads the way, I follow closely behind her, listening out for any sudden movements nearby.

The van is parked by a large red shipping container, we made sure to bring it here tonight, it's Friday and a shipment or exchange of some kind is due. The plan is to attack when whoever we're after approaches the van.  
'Remember Brussels?' Elektra says-I can tell she's smirking from her tone. The slightest smile tugs at my lips, 'I'll never forget Brussels.' I reply. We took down an entire gang of criminals at the river's docklands in Brussels.  
I feel tense, 'why isn't anyone showing up?'  
'We have to wait it out. Matt…Are you okay?' She asks gently.  
'Why?' I ask, annoyed that I'm this transparent.  
'You just seem…more distracted this time round…'  
I fall silent, I was pretty smitten last time we met. All we did was hook up and take down bad guys, rinse and repeat.  
'I'm fine.' I lie, I'm just glad she can't read my mind.  
'Whatever you say.' She resigns herself readily to my lies, Elektra never pushes me emotionally. It's what I like about her. She just lets it be. No explanations, just a strong physical connection. It's a good set up, I love it. But this time, I'm not aching to jump into bed with her. And I know why.  
The capricious bond between Karen and I has affected me in more ways than one, and I'm not happy about it, but I can't _do_ anything about it either. I don't want to lose her but I can't have her close. Not as close as I want to have her. I'm stuck, and I've never been stuck over a girl. I find my curiosities satisfied after a month or so with most…but Karen has my attention, but it's in the most frustrating ways. It catches me off guard, I'll be working out what to do about the Hand and the instant my mind wanders it lands on Karen. I find myself just breathing her in, listening to her heart beat. God, I sound like a creep, but it's not. I just…I'm not used to wanting a woman and not having her. But I can't allow myself a fling with Karen because I might not be able to end it.  
'Hey…' Elektra's hushed voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I listen intently, 'someone's coming…'  
She's right, I can hear footsteps, loud and clear but slow. I pause, alarm begins to trickle its way through my thoughts. I detect a scent in the air…_It can't be…_ It's a scent which belongs to a familiar perfume…_Oh God…_ A perfume I know well. _Karen._  
'Karen… They've got Karen…' I say.  
Elektra doesn't bicker with me, or wonder how they've managed to get Karen. Instead she's already working on a solution, I can tell by the way her breathing slows and she falls silent, deep in thought. I hear a gun _cock_. He's holding her hostage. He knows something isn't right. The footsteps grow louder. He's below the shipping container we're huddled together atop of.  
'I'll hang back, take out any extra cavalry he's shown up with. You take him out and get her somewhere safe.'  
'Why do I have to take the guy with the gun?'  
'Because you have the mask and Karen can't see my face.' Elektra says before taking a few swift steps and disappearing from my senses. I can't detect her anymore. She's been trained well.  
I turn my attention to the goon with Karen. Her heart races. I don't understand how she got here. What the hell is going on?!  
I pull on my mask and drop down from the container, landing in front of them. I hear his heartbeat hammering faster than Karen's.  
'You don't know what you've done!' He cries, I can smell his sweat, he's scared.  
'Let her go.' I order him in a calm tone.  
'You shouldn't have fucked with the exchange… You've killed me. You've killed me!' He yells. A groan escapes Karen's lips, he's pressing the gun harder into her head. I slowly approach him.  
'How have I killed you…?' I ask, buying time- I need to get close enough to get the gun away from him.  
'You've killed all of us!' He sniffs Karen's hair, but her-oh, he's gonna like her…he might even spare me if I give him her…'  
I can't tell where he's aiming the gun. I keep approaching him, 'No!' Karen shouts, I duck on impulse. _Bang!_  
He shoots a hole into the container behind me. I take the opportunity to propel myself toward him and tackle him to the ground. He has the gun in his hands, he holds it firmly, trying to aim it at me as I try to wrestle it from him. I hear a grunt, and the man shouts in pain. Karen's stamped her heel into his calf. It gives me the upperhand long enough to grab point the gun away from my own head.  
'I'm dead!' The man shouts, 'you've killed us all!'  
I don't understand. _Bang!_  
I freeze, warm blood drips from my face. I-I think he killed himself….  
Karen pulls me off him, I turn and face her, shaken, angry.  
'What're you doing here?'  
'I was following a lead…' Her heart speeds up, she steps closer to me within seconds a warm hand wipes some of his blood from my cheek, 'you've saved me twice now.' She says, and for some reason I don't pull away. It's the stupidest thing I've ever done. I stay standing still, my jaw basking in the warmth of her touch.  
I reach out and graze her cheek with my fingertips, they drift to her lips and then back to her cheek. I brush a strand of damp hair behind her ear.  
'Who are you?' She asks.  
The way her hand caresses my jaw makes nerves swell in my gut, what if she recognises me standing this close to her.  
'You're not safe here. You could have gotten hurt, or worse.'  
'So could you.' She replies. It's the first time in a long time that anyone has felt concern for me. She grazes my mask, grasping her wrist firmly, I pull it away. She catches her breath as the aggressive grip I manoeuvre her arm with. We're stood so close that I can feel the heat coming off of her body.  
'Go home.' I instruct. Her heart beat suddenly starts to slow down, that's not a good thing.  
'I…he injected me with something…' her voice trails off into a whisper, within seconds she collapses in my arms. I check her pulse, heart beats just slowly, it's a tranquiliser. She's knocked out. I have to take her home. I trust Elektra to report whatever she finds to me. I feel Karen's warm body shudder gently in my arms, she'll catch hyperthermia if I don't get her into dry clothes and hook her up to an IV. I have to take her to my place, that's the only place I know that has a makeshift IV drip. I don't trust hospitals. I have so many questions to ask her, how did he find her? Did she track him to this place?  
When I left her at the apartment, she seemed pretty set to stay in and watch the game. A pang of guilt hits me, I heard her stifling a sob through the door. I need to work out what's going on with her. How does someone with no intention of leaving the house end up at the docks being held hostage by a goon? I'm mad at her, but I'm more concerned than mad. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

I jolt awake, my neck stings from the injection. I blink as my eyes adjust to the neon light pouring in through Matt's window. I frown, how did I get here? The last thing I remember is the Mask saving me. My hands pat down my torso, I'm wearing one of Matt's shirts…I sit up on the couch, in the darkness I can make out Matt whose sat in an arm chair across from me. I study him, he sits completely still, lost in thought.  
'Did you … change my clothes?' I ask, puzzled.  
'To stop you from catching hyperthermia.' He explains, even though his tone is matter of fact, my cheeks redden. I cringe, what am I doing? He's blind.  
'How did I get here…?'  
'I heard a knock on the door and when I opened it, you were passed out on the floor.'  
The Mask must have left me here thinking I'm safe with Matt.  
'Do you wanna explain what the hell happened to you?' I glare at him.  
'There's no need to be rude, Matt-'  
'I'm not…' He trails off, I wonder if he realises how transparent he is, then I see it, the deep concern and fear across his face, 'You could have been killed out there tonight…or worse.'  
I study him, 'He broke in, threatened me…took me with him to…I don't know, appease his boss.'  
'You're staying here until this dies down-'  
'I don't think that's a good idea.'  
He stalks across the room and over to me, he crouches opposite me, his sunglasses on. He takes my hands into his, 'please.' He manages.  
'No, Matt… you and Elektra have a very obvious thing going on, and I don't want things to be weird.'  
'That's not what you think.' He explains.  
'Then what is it?' I press, and he's at a loss for words. I glance at the IV drip by the couch, he must have hooked me up to it when he found me.  
'Karen, I'm not good with…intimacy.' He finally manages to say. I groan, I'm not one of those girls and I won't turn into one.  
'You don't have to explain, Matt. I just, I care about whatever we do or don't have and I don't want us to lose that over some stupid kiss.'  
I squeeze his hands then stroke his cheek, 'thank you…for taking care of me when the Mask left me…'  
He places his hand atop of mine as my fingers drift down to his chin, I can't help but notice how similar Matt and the Mask's features are. Matt pulls my hand away from his face and holds it in both of his hands.  
'Food.' He announces, 'you need to eat something.' He walks over to the kitchen, I stand up, unsteady. Whatever he injected me with was strong.  
'I'll grab something on my way home.' I say.  
'No, Karen…it's not _safe_.' He says firmly, the concern is gone, instead it's replaced with frustration. I shrug, 'then I'll stay at the office.' I head for the door, and I've never seen Matt move so fast, he stops between me and the door. I'm almost surprised by how seamlessly he moves.  
I tilt my head at him, as the light hits him from outside, it illuminates his toned but muscular build beneath the white shirt he's wearing. A white bandage protrudes from his unbuttoned collar.  
What does he get up to?  
'Matt, I'm going.'  
'Why do you have a death wish? What did you _do_?' He demands, impassioned. I feel like I've been suckerpunched.  
'That's it, isn't it?' He asks, betrayed but stubborn, 'you think you did something that can't be undone…and now you figure you deserve trouble—'  
I try to brush past him, he swiftly grabs my arm and flips me around so I'm facing him as he pins me against the wall. He holds me in place, we linger close in a tense hold, I can see the frustrated look on his face and I'm angry. It's _my_ truth. Not his. It's _my_ business, not his.  
'Let…_go_ of me.'  
He does, he backs off completely and steps back. As I turn the door handle, I hear him say, 'I want you to _stay_.'  
I clench my jaw, I've secretly wanted to hear him say those words for weeks now, but not in this context, and I hate him for making me even think this way.  
'Look Matt…you keep doing _whatever _it is that you do when you're not around half the time. And let me do what I'm doing to make Hell's Kitchen a better place.'  
'I was a blind kid who'd wait up _every_ night to find out if his dad would come home alive. _Every night_.' Matt says, his voice is low, a thick whisper that catches in his throat. I stand in the door way, 'Please don't turn me into that kid again…I won't survive it.'  
Tears sting my eyes as I turn to look at him, he stands there looking helpless and distressed and it breaks my heart. Matt rarely paid much attention to me, he let Foggy take me under his wing and never once overstepped. All this time, the only sign I had that he cared on some human level, not the kiss, not lust, but on some human level, was when he held my hand after we put away Fisk. _That _was the first time I realised Matt did care. I just didn't realise how much he cared until now.  
'Karen…?' He asks, wondering if I've left or not.  
I jog over to him and hold him in an embrace, he buries his face in my shoulder. We just hold each other for a second, 'Wesley abducted me…He threatened to kill me and I…I shot him, again and again…' I feel Matt grow tense in my arms, I pull away but keep my forehead pressed against his and my palms stay on his stubbly cheeks. I'm so scared he'll never see me the same way again, 'I keep telling myself it was self-defence, that I had no other choice…that it was me or him, but my heart feels rotten Matt. I feel like I'm part of the darkness in the city…like its crawled inside me and I can't get rid of it.'  
Matt doesn't speak, he pulls me into a firm embrace and cradles me in his arms. I bury my face in his chest, letting tears stream down my cheeks.  
'You're the best thing to happen to this city in a long time, Karen. You make it better just by being in it.'  
Suddenly, Matt flinches, I must have pressed on the bandage.  
'What happened?' I ask, he lets go of me. He opens his mouth and pauses, the way he always does before he lies to me.  
'Let me guess, another 'accident'?'  
'What-I'm blind!' Matt says defensively.  
'Oh, don't-don't you dare…' I warn. He sighs and I feel a familiar sense of resentment spread through me.  
'You don't get to pick at my scabs if you can't be honest back, Matt.'  
'That's not what I wasn't doing—' He tries, but I don't wanna hear it. I've had enough.  
'No, I get it. I do. You can keep all the secrets in the world from the people you claim to care about but the second anybody keeps something from you, how _dare_ we…right?'  
He takes my arm for the third time tonight, 'no, let me go…just-'  
He grazes my chin, 'If you knew who I was, you'd _hate_ me.'  
'Not as much as you'd hate yourself for telling me.' I'm sick and tired of the tension between us, we can't get along for more than five minutes, and if we're left alone we can't stay close for more than five seconds.  
'You know why the kiss was a mistake?' I ask him as anger snakes through my veins.  
'It wasn't a mistake!' He finally snaps, 'I can't stop thinking about you—'  
'If that was true, you'd let me in, Matt. You wouldn't continuously insult me by lying to my face!'  
Before I can react he's taken my hands and is pressing them against his jawline, we stand in silence as my palms move over his face, my heart begins to pound as I stare at his face. The truth feels like you're being hit by a train, but slowly, irreversibly as it drags you through every lie, every 'accident' he claimed to have, every time he wasn't there when me and Foggy needed him…every chance he had to come clean sooner, and more than that…every time he's been a hypocrite and been mad at me and Foggy for putting ourselves in the way of danger. He's a liar and a womaniser and violent vigilante …he's the Mask.  
Unable to say another word, I pick up my wet clothes and walk out, shutting the door behind me, I take a shaky breath as the truth sinks in.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The door slams shut and suddenly my paralysis wears off. _This isn't how this ends._ Everything about it feels so wrong, I can't let her go. I can't let her walk away. How much more can I mess this up? I can still hear her heart pounding, her perfume clings to the air, and what kills me the most is, I can almost taste her tears. She probably doesn't know what to think of me. She probably hates me. But I can't let her go.  
As I hurry after her, I don't even bother to pick up my cane. Pulling the door open, I halt suddenly. She's still here. She couldn't bring herself to walk away.  
Reaching out, I take her by the arm and pull her into a passionate kiss, she doesn't resist, instead she kisses me back. Each of my senses in amplified by how much I want her, my senses compensate for my lack of vision by gifting me with the ability to see her through my other senses. The softness of her skin as she strokes my cheeks, kissing me deeply as she does. The intensity and urgency with which I pull her closer, into the apartment now, is returned with even more urgency. She wants me as much as I want her, if not more. She pulls me closer to her, we stumble into the wall. She clutches at my shirt collar kissing me sensually now, I pull off my shirt and she pulls off hers, her scent floods my mind, I'm caught up in the aroma of her shampoo, and the warmth of her body. She's in better shape than I realised, my hands find her waist as she leans into me. Her soft body pushes against my muscular build bringing a moan to my lips. She takes me by my belt buckle and leads me somewhere, I'm pushed back and I trust her. I fall onto the bed. I break into a breathless smile, I close my eyes. The bed shifts, she let herself fall onto it too then rolls onto her side to face me. I can hear our hearts beating in our chests with the anticipation and excitement of young love, it's something I haven't felt in such a long time.  
'Maybe we should slow down…' Karen says, breathlessly. I reach out, arm extended, she shifts closer to me so I can wrap my arm around her. Her nose grazes mine, 'maybe.' I whisper, she kisses me one last time, slowly then pulls out of it. I hear her get up and head over to the living room. She must be putting her shirt back on.  
She returns and sits next to me, I sit up on the bed.  
'You know, I always knew there something behind the façade of Matt Murdoch, I just couldn't place what…'  
'Karen, only Foggy knows and even that's pretty new to him. He's colder with me, more fed up…since finding out.'  
'He feels betrayed and insecure, Matt… heck, even I feel abit inferior around you now I know.'  
'Don't…'  
She lets out one of her awkward but endearing goofy laughs, 'How can I not?' Her rate returns to normal as she speaks, 'I thought I was doing something noble, hunting down the truth but you? You're on an entirely different level.'  
'Not necessarily a better one, Karen. It takes real darkness to do what I do.' I clear my throat, 'If we…do this…if you decide you want to be with me, you need to understand what that'll mean…'  
'We'll work it out as we go.' She says, her optimism breaks my heart.  
'It's not that simple. I won't always be around when you need me, I won't always be able to tell you the truth about where I've been…'  
'Matt, I trust you.'  
'Karen, I'm no saint.'  
'Neither am I.' Maybe she does understand me, maybe she understands me more than I understand myself. She kisses me again, and the world stops spinning. For a beautiful moment it's just me and her. Nothing else. She wraps her arms around me, and rests her head on my chest, and she's doing what I've done so many times before. She's listening to my heart beat. I caress her cheek, and for a brief moment everything is right in the world. 

Foggy eyes me and Karen curiously, 'Something seems…different with you two.' He says, as I settle into my chair beside Karen. Her knee grazes mine under the table.  
'Are you sure it's us?' Karen's asking, I can tell from her tone that she's smiling. Foggy pauses, confused.  
'Maybe it's me…' He concludes, then adds, 'as long as the trio has been amicably reunited because your little fight was driving me nuts. Because I'd lose Matt if there was a real blowout between you guys.'  
'Why?' Karen asks, oblivious.  
'Because I'd side with you Ms Page.'  
'He's right, he would.' I nod in agreement, Karen laughs, appalled.  
'Foggy…!'  
'No Karen, I have decided hoes before bros.'  
Karen manages a gracious but uncertain, 'Uhm…' She's wincing.  
'I think he just called you a uh…' I chime.  
'But in a cool way…' Foggy defends, we laugh. I can feel Karen's eyes on me and it makes my cheeks flush. She sees me for what I am, I don't get that very often.  
The door creaks open, 'Matt,' Elektra's voice calls, 'we need to talk.'  
I get up instantly, she sounds serious. This can't be good. It takes a lot to get to her.  
'Sure.' I say without hesitation, and within seconds I'm out the door.  
The hallway smells of damp, it needs to be decorated I suspect, or maybe just cleaned. Elektra paces. This is worse than I anticipated.  
'An entire prison of inmates became like violent Neanderthals, beating the brains out of each other.'  
'O…kay.' I nod, knowing worse news is to follow. I just have a gut feeling.  
'A hundred and thirty two inmates and nineteen guards ended up dead.'  
'Shit.' I say, 'you think it's the drug?'  
'Forget the drug, Matt…Fisk was being kept in that prison, his cell was incinerated and they claim to have found remnants of his DNA.'  
'He escaped.'  
'That's the thing, whatever or whoever is pumping this drug into the city _helped_ Fisk escape. You've got a bullseye on your back…Your little pals in there need to keep their distance from you right now.'  
I nod, 'When did this happen?'  
'Last night.'  
I feel a vague tinge in my heart, its bitterness. Of course this happened when I was happy for the first time in years.  
'The only reason you're still alive, is that they don't know who you are.'  
This is bad. This is very bad.  
'Thanks for letting me know, listen…you should leave too. Stay away from me.'  
'No. I'm going to stand by you and fight this.'  
She hugs me and I'm unprepared for it, I hold her, gripped by concern about what's to come. The office door opens and Foggy and Karen's conversation stops abruptly. I pull away from Elektra.  
'Where you going?' Foggy exclaims at Karen, I hear her hurried footsteps, she's seen the hug. _Shit. I need to explain._  
'I'll see you later, Matt. We're headed to Josie's for lunch.'  
Elektra shifts 'what was that about?' She asks, my inability to answer is an answer in itself.  
'Urg, Matt…' She groans for me, 'you idiot.'  
'I can't help it when it comes to Karen.' I say.  
'You better learn to help it, people like Fisk destroy people like us by killing the ones we love. You know that.' She declares then walks out.  
I'm left standing alone in the hallway, first thing's first. I need to explain myself to Karen.

I get to Josie's and listen for their table. Foggy's voice summons me, 'Hey buddy, over here…' I make my way to the table and sit. Karen's across from me to my right, I can smell her perfume, and Foggy is to my left, I can smell…Foggy.  
'You and Elektra still hooking up?' Foggy asks.  
'No, that ended yesterday.' I explain, more to Karen than to Foggy. Karen scoffs. That's when I realise she didn't know Elektra and I had a thing.  
'it's not like that with Elektra and me…It's not.'  
'He's being honest,' Foggy chimes in on my behalf, 'they just randomly link up and have sex then bail on each other for months at a time.'  
I think I just died inside.  
'Thanks Foggy.' I say with a bitter smirk. Karen gets up to leave, I follow.  
'What's going on?' Foggy calls after us.  
As we reach the street outside, I grip her arm-and she pushes me away. I let go of her.  
'It wasn't what it looked like, I swear to you.'  
'Then what was it?'  
'She was comforting me.'  
'Oh…! That makes everything okay!' She exclaims, the irritation in her tone is harsh but I earned it.  
'You don't understand-'  
'But Elektra does.' She retorts sarcastically.  
'Just…hear me out…' I shoot back, defensive, 'Fisk has escaped. These people pouring drugs into the city are the ones who helped him. And there is _one_ man he wants dead. And that's _me_.'  
'That's not going to happen-we won't let it-' Her voice has softened but she's missing the point.  
'No,' I say sadly, 'you don't get it…men like him will find and destroy all the things I care about to make me suffer before he kills me himself.'  
'You're ending this before it even had a chance to begin.' She says, her voice catches in her throat, it's rife with disbelief.  
'I don't have a choice. I _won't_ lose you…'  
'You just did.' She concludes bluntly and walks away. I hang my head, the idea that Karen and I could ever be happy, that we could ever be together was naïve. I feel the devil stir in my chest, he snakes through my veins and all I see is rage. I'll find Fisk before he even gets close. I'll destroy him before he gets the chance to hurt anyone I care about.  
I'm the devil in Hell's kitchen, not _him_.  
Somebody falls in stride with me, I don't need to question if it's Elektra. I just know it is. She watched the entire thing play out.  
'It's for the best.' She promises.  
'I know.' I reply.  
'Let's kick some ass.' 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Bullets rip and roar through the derelict warehouse, I hear Elektra's daggers slicing the air and now and then colliding with the limbs of thugs. I take a punch to the face, a_ crack_ from my nose as knuckles pummel my face. Momentarily, I lose my bearings and swing a fist at the air, nothing.  
My thug grabs me from behind and puts me in a headlock. I grunt, my heart starts to pound loudly, angrily. Every beat counts as I strain against the hold this guy has on me. I hear boots approaching, the cocking of a gun in front of me, I suddenly lean back and into the thug, using the momentum to spin us both around just as bullets are fired. I feel the thug takes the bullets in his back. He drops to the ground and I sprint then duck, slamming my shoulder into the gunman's chest and throwing him into the wall. He cries out as the wall crumbles, he lies in bricks and what I think is mortar. The dust stings my nostrils, I cough, clearing my lungs.  
The warehouse stores crates and crates of the drug, the problem is Elektra and I weren't prepared for so many thugs and such a big surprise. The thugs were injecting themselves with the serum when we showed up. So far we've obliterated twenty nine men-turned-mindless-zombies who were hyped up and crazed by the drug. The gunman makes for thirty.  
'Elektra…?' I call, I can't hear her. I can't even catch her heartbeat. _Shit._  
She's fast but these men are strong, strong enough to knock me clean off my feet with one swing.  
I stalk through the building, listening, searching, I hear machines humming, they're keeping the serum cool. There's the ticking of the bomb we planted. We rigged this place to blow. I've got forty five seconds left. _Where is she?_  
I suddenly crouch, lowering myself, focussing, isolating every single sound. Every heart beat, every scent, all in search of hers. _Please be okay._ Nothing, no dagger slicing the air, no combat. Then I hear something that fills me with dread, a body being dragged and dumped.  
_No…_ I hurry in the direction of the sound, I duck behind a container of some kind. I don't have time to fight, we'll all be dead if I don't get us out of here in the next twenty five seconds.  
There it is, a faint heart beat, she's been knocked out cold. I listen, the thug heads in my direction, I keep low and completely still. This place is about to go up in flames. I _need_ to get her out of here.  
I skid to a halt beside her, we have twelve seconds to get out of here. I swing her limp body over my shoulder and break into a sprint.  
'Hey!' A deep voice roars, bullets zip past me, the sound waves from the bullets illuminate the objects ahead of me, I use them for momentum. Leaping here and ducking there, throwing off the gunman behind me. I can feel the cool air from outside now, not far at all. I can make this…As though a slumbering beast has suddenly awoken I hear a deep and guttural roar which swells as it grows closer. It gains on me faster than I can run, making it to the door I toss Elektra into a dumpster and close the lid just in time for an intense wave of heat to rip me from my feet and _slam_ me into the cement ally wall. Everything goes black.

A deep pain stirs my senses, I gasp for air and sit up, my heart wigging out-I felt like hell itself had caught up with me. A deep throbbing ache encompasses my left arm, I feel it. Bandages. The smell tells me I have burns but they've been disinfected and bandaged to heal.  
I smell gin, I grope the air before me and my fingers find the bottle. I pick it up and drink it down, the bitter taste singeing my throat as it slides down into my gut. I'm in a motel of somekind. I know this because I can smell bleach and coffee, smells I associate together with a motel room. A source of heat is to my right side, I figure it's a bedside lamp.  
'Elektra…?' I mumble, my voice croaks. God, I took one hell of a beating.  
I just need the ringing in my ears to stop, along with the dull ache in my chest and the bruises all over my body. I just need to get out of my head.  
The door opens and I hear Elektra undo her holster carrying her daggers. She throws it onto the bed, I feel her come to a stop opposite me.  
'What?' I ask breaking the tense silence.  
'You nearly died saving me.'  
'Atleast I woke up on a bed and not in a dumpster.' I quip dryly. Her hands ruffle my hair then slide down to my jaw, she pulls me toward her. I stand up. The thing with Elektra is she knows exactly what she wants, and she gets it. She gets why it can't be love but can be sex. She gets the stakes.  
'You know, Matt…putting yourself in harm's way to save others will get you killed someday.'  
'Atleast I'll die fighting the good fight.' I whisper, I can feel her face inches from mine, her lips almost grazing mine as she replies.  
'Heroes don't get happy endings.'  
I linger close, 'I'm not looking for a happy ending.' I say. There's a pause.  
'Do you remember that night in Burma?' I crack a grin, I will never forget the night in Burma. I kiss her, firmly. She clutches my head and pulls me into an even deeper kiss.  
Wrapping her legs around my waist, she cradles my face as we make out. I hold her slender body in my hands and I carry her, never breaking the kiss. She grabs my vest, stopping me from pulling away as I place her onto the kitchen counter, god, she feels electric on my skin. Her hands move down my face and onto my chest, my fingers find her belt buckle as her loose ringlets of hair pour over my head and shoulders, immersing me in her world, and I love every second of it. The world of Elektra is dark, sensual and aggressive. It feels so good. _She_ feels so good. _God, I've missed this._  
This is all I really need, I tell myself. If that makes me an asshole, so be it.

Eight hours later it's ten in the morning and Elektra is in the shower. My phone buzzes, I grope the bed for it, finding it I answer.  
'You told Karen?!' Foggy's voice demands over the phone.  
'We can trust her.' I say, the last thing I wanna think about right now, is Karen Page. I groan, sitting up in bed. I suddenly feel awfully uncomfortable about last night. I need to silence my conscience, I grab the bottle of gin and down a few swigs.  
'Matt, how could you be so stupid?! Just by telling her, you've put her in danger-'  
'Make your mind up Foggy, I'm either an asshole for not telling you guys or for telling you guys.' I bark, then hang up.  
The phone buzzes again, I pick up.  
'Where have you been?' Karen's voice asks, 'there was an explosion at an old warehouse in the downtown district…was that you?'  
'Yeah.'  
'Matt… are you okay?'  
'I have to go.' I say, dodging the question, I hang up. This is how things felt when Karen first showed up, she spent most of her time singing Foggy's praises and I spent most of my time saving the city and keeping my distance from her because I didn't like how I felt about her. When I put Fisk away, I thought I'd fixed that. I thought there might be real hope for me and Karen, but people like us, we're damaged beyond repair.  
I pull the duvet aside and climb out of the bed, the hangover makes my head pound-I'll need more gin. The solution to any hangover is to drink more. It's that simple. I down more gin and plant the bottle on the bedside table.  
Pulling on my trousers and shirt I ignore my phone as it buzzes again. I run my hands over my head and hold it for a beat.  
The phone buzzes again, frustrated I grab it and answer, 'what?' I demand.  
Karen's voice shakes on the other side, 'You need to come to the office right now.'  
From the horror in her voice, I'm propelled into acting fast, I grab my cane and flee. I'll explain to Elektra later.

Thirty minutes later, I approach the office, I'm suddenly alerted to the sirens nearby. Police cars. What the hell's happening? I hope Foggy and Karen are alright. It's all I can think of as I near the building.

When I enter, I can hear Karen's shaky voice speaking with officers, 'it was on the steps outside when I showed up this morning...' She's saying.  
'Matt…' Foggy's voice says, grave concern. I smell blood. What's happening? The distinct scent of cigarettes hits me, only one man I know smokes those. I near the center of the room. I'm held back by officers, 'what's happening?!' I yell, I'm yelling because I know _exactly_ whose head is in the box on the table. I'm yelling because I'm devastated.  
'Matt…man, I'm so sorry.' Foggy cries, I feel him grab my arm and pull me away from the police tape that I'm pushing against.  
'Please sir, back away.' The officers say in a monotonous tone.  
'Foggy…' I say, my voice cracking in anguish, 'Foggy…is it…'  
'Yeah…' Foggy says. I break into sobs, Stick's head is in the box, decapitated.  
'Can we ask you a few questions, sir?' An officer says.  
'Get away from me…' I order as I storm out of the office. I throw up on the steps, nearly crumbling. Karen takes my arm-I pull it away, 'just-just stay_ away_ from me...please.' I plead, my heart breaking with every passing second as I realise this is real and it's happening. Stick is dead. They know who I am. Foggy and Karen are in danger.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Waiting is a strange thing. Waiting stops you in your tracks and wakes you up to how slowly and painfully time can move. I've been sat by the door of the office for three days now waiting. Waiting for them. Whoever they are.

I called Foggy and instructed him to take Karen somewhere safe, away from the city. Away from DigiPalm, away from The Hand, who Elektra has been chasing down…and more importantly, away from me.

Stick's head was marked with a symbol used by The Hand, a secret society who believe in superhuman abilities and have ninjas trained at the highest levels. My meddling with the drug flow of Serpentis angered them enough to send me a warning. This is the first wave. The next wave should be here any second…

I sit still, horribly sober and completely aware. My heart beat slow and my ears observant. The hissing of the pipes, the plethora of scents throughout the building, leftover whiffs of Karen's perfume cling to the air, reluctant to let go and hellbent on reminding me of her, and the pipes hiss constantly. It's endless. I've never noticed it before, but I guess you only notice the secret world around you when you're entirely alone. The secret world is something Stick taught me to see with my ears, to sense my way through what's happening that nobody pays attention to. Having spent so much time with Foggy and Karen, I stopped seeing it. But tonight, this old building creaks at its sinews as she holds herself up in the face of modernity. My brain does a run through of all my senses, ticking off the checklist in my mind as I identify each one and whether there's been a change in it. Coffee, perfume, ink, paper, dying flowers, rusting pipes, oiled door hinges…gasoline. My nostrils flare…When did that start seeping into the scents? It slid itself in beneath the guise of garbage, ink and paper. The hissing cloaked itself behind the pipes. _Shit_. It's later than I realised, when I detect the whiff of silk.  
The second wave is here. I hold completely still, my heart rate doubles but within seconds I slow it down completely. It's at times like this I wish I wasn't blind. I fake a cough, a ruse to throw soundwaves against the surfaces around me…and it happens, amidst the blurs I see silhouettes of fifteen cloaked figures stood entirely still before me. Ninjas. A shiver runs along my spine. Death sent its angels and they've been watching me up close. They know I'm blind, they're waiting for me to figure out they're here. _Fuck_.  
I gradually tense my muscles, preparing to propel myself but I do it subtly under their gaze. They are more skilful than me and good old Stick combined. _Stick, this one's for you._  
'Argh!' I launch myself forwards-boot extended expecting to collide against one of their chests and propel me to knock out the surrounding ones but my ankle is grabbed and twisted suddenly. The swelling pain darts through me-I spin, bending with it so they don't break the ankle. The cost is footing and I hit the ground head first. It makes me dizzy. The sound of fifteen swords being unsheathed simultaneously is one no man wants to here, but unlucky for them I'm blind…with rage. They murdered Stick. I get up again, swinging, blocking, blades slice and snip at my limbs like hungry serpents and the ninjas move like snakes, their clothes hiss unanimously creating a fog of sound. It makes it impossible to know where they are and workout where the hell I am. It's as if I am being swarmed by wasps and each one swipes a sting in my direction. Warm blood seeps from my arms, legs and chest-even my cheeks. They're going to kill me slowly. Atleast I'll go down swinging. I land a few punches and I clip myself against the desk. The desk splinters at my waist and I keel over, leaning against it. I'm lost. I'm outnumbered. Disoriented. I've got no chance.  
Glass smashes, from its shallowness I know it was a window. Boots trample over the glass and the swarming and hissing of silk is interrupted by grunts. _Elektra.  
_'Matt! You okay?' She asks, grunting as she swings and grapples. I hear furniture break.  
'Never been better.' I croak, I start to regain my bearings now the ninjas have been interrupted. Their masterful deception tricks have been brought to a halt by Elektra, it gives me a fleeting advantage. I decide to make the best of it while it lasts-grabbing the nearest ninja, I slam his head into the splintered desk and throw him at three to my right. I spin and block an incoming _woosh_, aimed for my chest and instead I spin him round by the ankle just as they spun me. _Take that, you bastards._  
He slams into the ground, my boot kicks a sword. I reach down and take it by the handle. I wield it tentatively, passing it back and forth through my hands to get a hang of its weighting and cut. Something slices the air seconds from my face, leaping backwards I hold on the sword, blocking. _Clang!  
_My ears focus intently, nine are on the ground, six remain standing. Elektra ducks between two and stabs them with her daggers. Four still standing, two run for me. I kick at the desk, flipping it up and they run straight into it-but instead of colliding they simply propel themselves over it and land behind me. That didn't go as planned. A _thwack!_ And a crippling pain moves through my spine, I buckle. I snap off the leg of the desk and spin round on one knee, impaling one with it. The second plants a kick to the side of my head, and I slam into the desk, drawing blood from my split lip. He stabs at me and I try to dodge it but he catches my thigh, slicing it cleanly. I cry out in anguish.  
When a sharp _swoosh_ pierces the air and wedges itself into the other ninja's chest. I can hear the dagger's handle shuddering as it lands on its target. The ninja drops down beside me.  
I wheeze, I'm bleeding out. 'I owe you one…' I muster to Elektra. Her heart pounds, 'let's get you out of this building…now.' She orders, she's smelt the gas.  
I feel her arms slip beneath my shoulders and she drags me out. Warm blood drips onto my face, its Elektra's. She's hurt. The way her heart pounds tells me it's bad. She drops me inches before the doorway, '_Go…' _she orders, breathless and in pain.  
'Elektra…' I murmur, weak. I've lost too much blood. My body feels like a deadweight, if I'm getting out of here I'll have to drag myself to the doorway.  
'Get out!' She barks, 'NOW! _GO!_'  
I do as she says, and make it through the door. I hear her groggy footsteps behind me when instead of getting out of there with me, she slams the door shut. Shutting me out.  
'NO!' I cry out-I scramble toward the door to get her out of there when—A heat so intense it makes me cripple as it hits me full on, and an impact so blistering it thunders and sends my body into a parked cab nearby, the office goes up in flames.  
I lie still on the ground, above my hammering heart, I hear the flames taunting me. Roaring, boasting, The Hand took Elektra and Stick from me. Two-Nil. I'm taken aback by the dense pain in my chest as my fragile heart which clung to keeping everything together so desperately, finally breaks.

Five nights have passed since the attack at what were once our offices, five nights since Elektra died saving _me_. Not an innocent, not some victim, but me. She died saving me. I always hoped she'd die for something more noble than that.

I stumble drunkenly toward the kitchen, _clink!_ A few of the many bottles of whiskey I've gotten through, fall over. I don't give a fuck. There's a loud knocking at my door. I wince, I have no idea what time it is. From the sudden increase in noise in my apartment block, I figure people are generally home from work by now. So…sevenish… Whoever it is knocks again. It's like they know I'm in here. I wish they've leave me to rot.  
They knock again. And now I'm annoyed, I make my way to the door, this time stepping on fallen bottles and cracking them under my boots.  
I open the door and I'm hit with her scent, 'Where shall I start?' Karen demands.  
'Please…just…leave me alone.'  
'Aside from the fact you annihilated our offices and we're having to work from Foggy's place, and other than the fact Elektra and that old man were killed, do you want to explain what the hell is going on, Matt?' Her shitty tone hits me and rolls right off. I don't care.  
'Karen, go home.' I say, dismissive of her and all her shit. I feel her grab me by my t shirt and pull me closer, I groan. Too drunk to handle sudden movements.  
'Do you have a death wish? Is that it?'  
'I said, GO.' I order. She shoves me and I stumble onto the ground, a bottle breaks under me. I wince. She slams the door shut and I hear her erratic pulse.  
'Matt, if you carry on like this-then they died for nothing. _Nothing_. Drop this defeatist attitude and be the hero you've been for this city for so many years!'  
Something inside me twists, how fucking dare she pretend to understand any of this.  
'I lost the _only_ people who _get_ what my life is! I don't need this!'  
There's a pause, then her voice resounds, 'Right…because I'm nobody to you. Thanks Matt, At least I finally know where I stand…and Foggy? What about Foggy? Your oldest friend who you won't even speak to.'  
'Jesus Christ…I shouldn't have opened the door-' I mutter, this is my fault. I had to let her inside so she could preach and lay into me. I feel my grasp on the devil inside slipping. She's bringing my temper to boiling point. She needs to leave.  
'Who else were you expecting?' She demands.  
'Death!' I bark.  
The word hangs in the air between us and neither of us move. I need another drink. I head in the direction of the kitchen, I wince at the cut I earned from falling on the floor just now, guess I can add it to my list of wounds.  
'Okay.' I hear her say as I gulp down more whiskey, 'Sit around waiting to die, Matt. Thanks for being such a shit person. Enjoy wallowing.' The bitterness in her words cuts deeper than those damn swords but I don't reply. I just want her gone, gone far away from me. As the apartment door slams shut, I realise that I just got what I wished for. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven:

I walk through the city, unmasked, probably dishevelled, I know this because I haven't shaved in a week. The night bores me. The hubbub of the city. The cries for help, the ambulance. Everything…the only crimes I care about are the ones to do with The Hand.

I keep my phone off the hook. I tried leaving it on, but it never stopped ringing. I couldn't get a minute of peace to be left to do what I need to do. I've got a one track mind and it's on hunting down and destroying The Hand.

I'm too scared of what I might learn about myself after The Hand has been defeated. I refuse to plan ahead. I don't even know if I'll continue with the vigilantism. Thing is, fate served me a shitty hand and I've finally lost it.

I've back out of the game. There's no such thing as a hero. There are only people who do bad things, people who fight it and those who watch. That covers every kind of person you'll ever meet in this world. For now, I'm the one who fights it, but its starting to feel old and withered. I think a time will come for the fourth kind of person, the one who turns a blind eye to it all.

I want revenge and then I want out. I'm a poison, and those around me get killed as collateral based on my nature and the decisions I make. I'm the worst kind of person there is, the way I've used Karen, messed her around, disregarded Foggy. I've lost all of my allies and the bitterest pill to swallow is probably that it could have been prevented. For Karen, Elektra, Foggy and Stick, I was a bad omen. I caused the bad things that happened to them. I did that. Directly. There are no excuses to be made. No salvations to be doled out.  
No redemption arcs. There are no more heroes in Hell's kitchen, just the devil and his demons.

Tonight, my hunches and leads have brought me deep into the heart of the city's underground. The Hand, whoever they are, meet here. I tracked a few of the drivers who were moving their drugs around and now and then, some would stop here without explanation. That's when I smelt it, something hidden amidst fuel, rust and recycled air, something with a metallic taste to it. Serpentis, the substance causing madness, blindness, death and rage in whichever unlucky junky ends up trying it. My muscles twitch for a fight, I'm blood thirsty tonight.

A deep rumble indicates a train approaching, I can hear every loose screw rattle and it irks me some more. My mind is taut, drenched with anticipation, rage pushed to a boiling point then frozen. See I'm doing what I can to keep control. That's the only way to beat the ninjas trained for The Hand.

Loose metal, light, probably aluminium swings against a platform sign. It's rusted. I can taste the jabbing tinge of oxidized metal. It's a free hanging chain that's snapped off a cog higher up somewhere. I dash at a pillar-my booted foot is welcomed by a cement surface and I propel myself upward, groping for the chain. I grab it and it whips around my wrist, the metal chain moments from slicing my nose right off. I hold it firmly, using my weight I tug it, hard. It snaps off, and I drop to the ground, chain in hand.

A distant growl of heavy metal against metal resonates from beyond the track opposite me, it's followed by the faintest hint of Serpentis in the air. This is where The Hand produces Serpentis. It's been thirty seconds since the last train passed. I have three minutes to locate where that sound is coming from. I lower myself onto the track slowly. One misstep and I'll be electrocuted. I'm not dying until The Hand dies.

Why the underground? I think hard, maybe it's the lack of coverage the cops have over this place. The city is infamous for it's maze-like underground, some folks believe there's an underworld down here. All I've ever found are drunks and hobos. I wonder how long they've been here, doing this…then I'm filled with dread. My head's asking questions I don't want to answer, like how many innocent victims they've claimed down here, just beyond the reach of those of us overground.

I slip my feet between metal bars on the train tracks, taking care to develop a rhythmic stepping that doesn't make my boots touch the metal strips. The city has been running on electric and fuel combi trains for five years now, and I was a fan…until right now.

A creak followed by a loud hiss from behind me pushes me forward, an intense heat catches the back of my neck. I hurry on into the darkness, I'm being forced down a certain path. Someone unscrewed a pipe. I can only assume it's the Hand. What do they want to show me? Another hiss from my left, so I go right. I can play the game.  
I approach a dead end, I can tell from the way the recycled air hits the wall and doubles back. I pause, trying to work out where to go next… That's when I notice air moving at a faster rate to my right, it gushes to freedom. That's the thing with air and water, they always find a way out. I press my hand against the wall as I follow the direction of the gentle gushing sound, and I find a small passageway, maybe a metre wide. Must be an old service corridor.

As I head down it, I gradually realise the smell of Serpentis is intensifying. I'm moving closer to wherever they're keeping it. I enter a small chamber but something is wrong…

'We meet again.' A voice, I was not expecting says. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. The voice booms, bouncing against various large containers, filled with a fluid substance I can only assume is the drug.  
I pause…confused…I listen intently in hopes of confirming my fears. The ticking of a swiss watch, the scent of mulled wine and high end perfume. That rapid yet shallow heart beat, despite a completely calm exterior…._Fisk_…?

'You and I, we have a score to settle.' His gentle voice says, as it bounces against the surfaces around me.

'Fisk…' I accuse.

'I noticed something about you, when we fought.'  
I tilt my head trying to narrow down his whereabouts in this claustrophobic room. From my senses, I can tell the Serpentis is stacked right up to the ceiling all around us. This is a death trap.

I workout where he is, and leap at him—I collide with something much lighter than Fisk sounds. A dummy.  
I stand up, quick and alert. He knows I'm blind.  
'You can't see.' Fisk mutters, this time the voice comes from my left, I plant a kick in his direction and my boot hits another dummy. This s a set up. He's got dummies throughout the small room, it must be crowded. My heart rate starts to soar. I'm nervous. I feel like I've been found out, I know it's stupid but knowing your enemy knows your vulnerability is an awful feeling.  
'So I thought I'd have some fun…' Fisk's voice says.  
I whip the chain in the direction of the words…  
'You're working with the Hand?' I demand to know as my chain hits another dummy. This guy's making me jump through hoops. It's like he's mocking my blindness.

'You are their gift to me.' Fisk scoffs, his voice resounds against the containers, I strike ahead with the chain, knocking a container to the ground. The thick scent of serpentis fills my nostrils. A sharp sting floods my spine. I've been injected with something…

The Hand doesn't deem me worthy as an opponent. They think they can just gift me to Fisk? They've got another thing coming. A strong arm puts me in a chokerhold from behind and I'm caught off guard. I lose my footing as the drug pours over the concrete ground.

Fisk drags me through the small room, my feet strike out helplessly. The Serpentis hisses and swells around me, I feel weightless. I can't move a muscle, I can't even breathe.

I know I'm being dragged but my brain tells me I'm falling. I'm so dizzy. Confused. I don't understand what's happening. I hear a metal lid open, and I'm tossed into it. My body hits the thick liquid surface of the drug and it welcomes me, rolling over me as I sink into it. It feels like quicksand.  
'Rest in peace.' Fisk mutters, 'There's a big difference between a demon and the devil.' I hear Fisk's raspy chuckle followed by a metallic groan. The lid is put back into place as I'm left to rot in this metallic coffin.

This is it…this is how I die. It was too easy, and that devastates me… I die as a hotheaded waste of space, and Fisk and The Hand get to roam free doing whatever they wish…Fate is a fickle thing.

The last thing my mind shows me, is Karen Page.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Seven months have passed since I saw her last. I miss her enriched smell. The way it carried the scents of cement, fuel and a mesh of perfumes, food and plants always grounded me. It's this entanglement of smells which remind me of home. The city has a strong trade route, bringing in exotic and alien whiffs in to the apartment through the windows. God, the apartment. I don't even remember what state I left it in. All I know is, something inside me needed to be broken. And it was. I was plucked from a dark, hopeless, self-pitying mess and trained into a focussed vigilante. The Ninjas of Dahk-Gar saved my life. The mysterious branch of spiritual warriors trained Stick.

As I sit now, poised on the edge of a dilapidated apartment block's rooftop at the edge of Hell's Kitchen, I stare at her, my city. My home. My senses are sharper than ever, my muscles hunger for combat and my mind is clear.

But still I pause, letting the faintest sense of wistfulness seep in through the cracks in my mind. _Karen Page._ Thinking of her scares me. She's the one person I cannot forget, not entirely. I know I should discard this thought immediately. It's always accompanied with thoughts of Elektra and Foggy. And what it will do to me, if I lose her. If there is any beauty left in this insipid city, it's in her. I see good in Karen, a good that I don't see anywhere else. She has a pureness that terrifies me, because I'm anything but that. Being back home makes it harder to stop thinking about her, but I'll erase her, make her part of the obscure mix of echoes and shadows that lurk in my mind. I've turned my heart into ashes, I don't feel a thing. I keep a firm hold on it. If I'm bringing down the Hand, I will not lose control.

I will not be in her life anymore. I grant myself a final act of mercy, and it's the cruellest kind. But I need it. I just need to be within proximity of her, from afar. She'll never know.

Then it's down to business, and the streets will be painted red as I hunt for the Hand.

***********

Lucas smiles at me from across the table, as I clear the dishes away. He's been showering me with compliments all night but I have to talk myself into accepting them. Lucas has been helping me set up a small independent newspaper, and is working with me as an editor. I carry the dishes to the sink, and it happens, for the first time in seven months, I get a … feeling. I pause and glance out the window. The city glows auburn from streetlights, shadows dance amidst darkness and somehow I get the feeling I'm being watched.  
_Don't be stupid Karen, it's not him. He's gone. _I say 'gone' because I can't take dead. I can't take the thought of him laying in a gutter somewhere, never to be found. He's gone. Matt's departure broke Foggy, changed him. It changed me too. I'm no longer naïve, I don't believe some knight in shining armour will swoop down and save the city in its hour of need. The pen is mightier than the sword. Screw Matt. I shove the thought of him aside and shake my head, I need to stop thinking about him. He tossed me aside like garbage. He made his priorities clear and I wasn't one of them.  
Warm hands graze my waist, I tense. Lucas turns me to face him, he's standing close. I can smell his cologne, he gazes into my eyes with his gentle brown ones and touches my chin. This is our second date and I haven't even kissed him.  
_Come on, grow up. _I order myself, tiptoeing, I plant a brief kiss on his lips, making sure I pull away before it goes any further. Lucas smiles respectfully and steps back. He's taken the hint.  
"Thank you for dinner, I'm gonna head home. I'll see you tomorrow…?" He asks in his polished accent. He's the product of a big bank account and home-schooling.  
"Yeah, see you tomorrow." I mumble nervously.  
He nods, I watch him as he heads for the door. The grey suit he's wearing compliments his athletic build, his brown wavy hair is combed neatly contradicting the scruffy five o'clock shadow along his jaw line.  
He stops and I freeze up.  
"Look, Karen…I don't want to rush you." He says gently, "I mean it. Whatever this is, or isn't is okay with me."  
For the first time in a long time, I feel my defences soften. I manage a feeble nod.  
"Thank you." I'm damaged goods and he knows it. I walk toward him as he opens the door, he steps into the corridor. I plant one more kiss on him, this time letting it last. It doesn't feel right for me yet, and he returns the kiss tentatively. I pull away, annoyed at myself. I can't trust anyone anymore. Matt did this to me. He was my final straw. _That bastard_.  
I shut the door and slide all four locks into place-a precaution I took out after Matt vanished and I started printing the newspaper-I head straight to the bedroom, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen counter as I go. _I'm gonna need this tonight.  
_Slumping onto the bed, I take a few swigs and drop my head onto the pillow. It's the only way I can sleep. I reach under my pillows, as soon as my fingertips graze the gun I feel safer.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

I try Foggy again, I haven't heard from him in months. The phone rings for a moment then goes straight to voicemail. He hung up. I understood he was hurting because of Matt, but I'm not sure what happened between Foggy and _me_. Matt left and it took a part of us, Matt, despite the jerk he turned out to be, anchored us. He was the gel that held us together…once he left, I don't know…I feel my cheeks redden not with shyness but with sadness and frustration, maybe Foggy lost respect for me. Maybe I did become just another of Matt's infamous 'pretty girls' who he used and then discarded. Foggy shut me out in the cold.  
I'm starting to really resent men. I scoff and put the phone down on my desk and just stare at it. Giving in to the smallest droplet of hope left in my heart, that maybe just maybe my phone will light up and it'll be Foggy. It doesn't ring. I barely realise I'm nodding, as if subconsciously I've accepted that this is how it will be. And if so, fair enough. I don't need Foggy. For the second time in my life, I realise home can't be home anymore. I fight back tears. _God, how could I have been so naïve about them? They were just two lost souls, like me._ Maybe it was that. Maybe finding two people as lost as I was in this world, gave me somewhere to belong.  
I figured because they'd been dealt rough hands in life, we had some kind of unbreakable bond. A bond I now realise was very breakable. How quickly priceless becomes worthless... There are no heroes in this city, just desperate people who are trying not to lose what little hope they have left.  
I glance through the police records on the computer in mine and Lucas's office. Another murdered scientist. Something tells me it isn't the work of a serial killer despite what the cops are telling the media. This seems underhanded, mob-ish. It seems like the work of The Hand. So far, I've helped the cops catch seven of The Hand's faithful workers, of those every single one killed themselves in their cell or in the squad car.  
My phone lights up, I answer it.  
"Miss Page…" Detective Eric Brody speaks softly.  
"Call me Karen, Eric." I instruct. Eric was my prom date in high school, things didn't work out, and it was _definitely_ me, not him. He was wonderful. Now he works for the city's police department and agreed to give me access to police records. It took a lot of persuasion, but after my leads panned out he was happy to collaborate in bringing down the Hand.  
"Miss Page, uhm, there's been another …murder of sorts." I try not to flinch when he calls me Miss Page, he's making a point – as politely as he can.  
"Of sorts?" I press.  
"Can you meet me for lunch?"  
"Sure, say when and where." I grab my handbag and stuff a pen and paper inside, while pressing my phone between my shoulder and my ear. Lucas walks in and places a coffee on my desk. I smile gratefully but speak into the phone, "Sure. See you then."  
I pick up the coffee, "thank you so much, I've got a case so I have to go."  
Lucas opens his mouth to object but I'm out the door, I don't have time for wherever Lucas and my relationship is headed right now. _  
_Swinging the door open I stalk through the city streets, I can't ignore the adrenaline kick I get from knowing there's a case to solve.

********************

_FLASHBACK_

I'm dead. I've got to be dead. Am I awake? It's tricky knowing if you're awake or just hallucinating when you're blind. Hallucinations and reality really aren't that different if you think about, it's scary but it's true.  
Pain shoots through my right arm, my head pounds. I groan, the soundwaves ricochet off the wall rapidly—that means I'm in a small room. My muscles are stiff but I pull myself up on to my feet. Stretching out my arms to either side of me, I can plant them firmly against both walls. Where am I? My senses split through me, slicing my every thought in two, the pain is too much. It feels like my mind will burst out through my skull and pour out onto the walls. _It must be the drug…_ I tell myself, but instead of calming me down it just winds my body up more. I'm not in control. I stumble forwards, my left leg seizes, making me realise I have a bandage on one knee. I can't put a lot of weight on it. What is this? Was I saved then locked away?  
I keep limping forwards, my boot hits the ground, the ground is made of rock, but its damp. I'm underground somewhere. I must be. I try to listen and I hear the most terrifying sound I have ever heard…I hear silence.  
"No, no…" I mumble, afraid now. Something about being left to rot floods me with restlessness. My hands find a door, I press out my palms flat against the cold metal fixture. It's thick. I move my hands around the surface. Hinges, no handle on this side. I feel sick. This is bad. I find a narrow slit at eye-level. I throw my weight against the door. It doesn't even budge. Instead, I'm knocked back.  
"LET ME OUT." I demand, my words echoing down what sounds like an endless corridor. My voice must be bouncing off pillars. As the echo grows faint, I think I hear a reply approaching…  
"LET ME OUT!"  
I fall back, it's my own voice, it's travelled and bounced right back.  
_Where am I?! _  
"Don't break her…" A whisper sneaks in through the silence, I whip my head around but it's gone. There it is again, deadly silence.  
"What is this?" I ask, but there's no reply. Whatever snuck in between the veils of silence and whispered, is long gone now.  
"_Don't break her!"_ The whisper barks through the atmosphere again. I grasp out ahead of me and catch nothing but thin air.  
"Who are you?!" I roar, my lips are parched and my head tingles with agony.  
"Don't break her!" The whisper rasps this time as something nudges past me.  
"I don't understand!" I listen for a reply, all I catch is a gentle murmur.  
"You will." It says from my right this time. I grasp for something, anything. But my hands find nothing.  
_What shouldn't I break? What shouldn't I break?_  
Panicking, I pull off a boot and throw it upwards. _Thud._  
The ceiling is high, maybe twenty meters. I grope the walls, searching for anything that could be of use. My hands turn up empty. Backing into the far back wall, I sprint toward the door. I collide against it with jarring impact.  
I drop to the ground in an injured and dizzy heap, my ragged breathing relaxes after a few seconds…that's when I hear the faintest _swoosh._ Not a chain, fabric…cloth…silk. _Silk._  
I leap upwards at it, grasping it with my hand, I wrap it around my knuckles thrice and pull hard. It doesn't budge. It's tied to something firm. I lean back and plant my feet against the wall.  
_Swoosh!  
_A grunt, and I'm booted from above back down to the ground.  
"Argh!" I cry out. The son of a bitch is above me. I lay there for a moment, remembering something Stick told me about years ago. The fable of Dahk-Gar, a place hidden from civilisation, where only the elite of beings were trained. Stick was taken in by them, until he was disgracefully discharged for screwing his partner's lover.  
The warriors use the senses to tackle any obstacle, they harness their environment and hold a dialogue with nature, using physics to their advantage. _What can I break?_  
I realise what the figure somewhere above me means.  
_Don't break silence.  
_They saved me, probably as an IOU to Stick, and they're training me. I sprawl back out onto my back and just breathe, listening to the waves of air moving through the silence. I'm on step one, mindfulness.

_END FLASHBACK_

********  
Rain drops treacle down, as I point out the warehouse from the car. I climb out of the car and Lucas follows my lead, locking his car behind us. I make my way through the dark back alley, there isn't a soul in sight. There are so many massive buildings in the city, that sometimes I feel like a child interrupting a private conversation between the giant structures, the same way a toddler clings to the legs of adults when they're standing together. I push the thought of my mind. I spot the door and recognise the lock. As part of a dare, I broke into my head master's office in high school, that's where I know the lock from. I reach into my handbag, my fingers find my credit card.  
_Old habits die hard_, I think.  
I slip my credit card between my fingers then slam it down the lock, _click!_  
We're in.  
"You can wait in the car." I tell Lucas.  
"_You_ can wait in the car." Lucas shoots back. Whether its chivalry or he's as curious as I am about finding out the truth, both me and Lucas slide into the warehouse.  
Brody said the cops couldn't get a warrant for the warehouse, even though they suspected the Hand's men are up to something in here. The owner of the warehouse is unreachable and the body count is only increasing, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.  
"Over there…" Lucas says, I follow his gaze. On the open-plan second floor, is an office door from which muffled voices can be heard.  
"Stay here." He orders, I scoff.  
"No chance." I reply.  
_Blam!  
_A gunshot echoes through the warehouse. Lucas ducks, wrapping me in his strong arms to shield me. His body pushes against mine, on instinct, I climb out of his hold. Someone could be in danger, so I rush up the stairs.  
"Karen! Be careful!" He shouts, hot on my tail.  
_Blam! Blam! Blam!_  
A man cries out, I reach the landing and stare at the door for a beat. Raindrops drip from my long tresses, and my shirt is soaked through. A bullet hole in the door reveals a figure moving around inside. A man's muffled pleas grow louder. I reach out and push the door open.  
Tied up, lying on the ground with a cloth wrapped around his mouth is a man in a suit. His gun lays disassembled beside him. He's looking with terror at the window…and that's when I see him. Standing in the window. I know that silhouette anywhere.  
"…Matt?"  
The leather-clad figure holds still, his back is to me. My voice trembles, "Matt…?"  
I approach him, stunned. He leaps before I can reach him and just like that, he's gone.  
"Karen, are you okay?" Lucas asks as he catches up. He kneels over the fallen man and puts his keys on the desk. Ignoring him I stalk across the room, passed the gagged man, and peer out of the window. There's no sign of anyone down below. Just Lucas's car.  
"Judging by the tattoo on his hand, he's one of them." Lucas announces, "Karen, talk to me." Lucas says. I can't.  
"I-I, I need to go. _Now." _I grab his car keys and flee down the stairs.  
"Karen?!" Lucas calls after me, but I don't feel a thing. I'm in shock. A thousand emotions sprint through my mind. He's here. He's back. Getting in Lucas's car, I speed down the alley headed for Matt's apartment. 


End file.
